


Rise on Burning Wings

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragons, F/M, Grey Wardens, Modern Character in Thedas, Reavers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Senior Warden Gordon Blackwall and a contingent of Wardens are traveling to the Western Approach when they come across a weary traveler buried in the sand. When they awaken, Gordon has no choice but to put them through the joining.





	1. Dark Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon  
> Hissing Wastes-Western Approach

The dark sun beat down on the gnarled remains of a metallic carriage and the carcass of the prehistoric creature that took them down. It flew, breathed fire, and was covered in scales. By those observations, it was a dragon. A dragon in the middle of a desert that they had fought when they crashed. They were no match alone. Thankfully they had more ammunition than it did life.

Drinking its tangy revitalizing blood did little to quell the worry of blood borne illnesses. But concerns of dehydration took precedence. There were no signs of water or vegetation in the desolate desert. Having exhausted the measly reserves salvaged from the crash, desperation led to the dragon’s disabled and dying body. There had been plenty of food but water – liquid – was rare and what gallon the helicopter had been equipped with was damaged and spilled in the crash. Evaporated in the harsh glare of the sun and heat of the sand.

The bodies of the survivors turned dragon hunters had burnt to a crisp in the dragon’s breath. Bodies buried under sand in a makeshift grave. Two of them died in the crash blaze and the rest in the onslaught with the beast.

Sucking the remnants of the dragon’s tangy blood off cracked lips, a fire burned in once delicate veins. Swelling, cracking, filling with loss and rage that fueled survival. Exhaustion should have worn out the body, but with each mouthful of blood kept the need for survival burning.

Its blood called. Mouth drier each time. How long would it last? Water and animals were scarce. How did dragon survive? It was large and could fly but its wings didn’t look to support it.

Teeth pulled loose from its maw to fashion a spear, blood boiled and the resulting steam created pinkish water but it was better than nothing. Better than thrice purified piss that left one heaving.

The moon’s orbit continued, no longer obscuring the sun. The eclipse finished and the sun set. Reserves depleted but landscape mapped with a heading decided. It was time to move.

Harsh putrid stench of the sulfur pits prompted a coughing fit. Head wrapped in cloth, back slung with their weapons and a pack filled with blood begotten water. Empty bottles filled with the sulfur air that settled into yellow particulates. Would be useful.

First prey came after the pits. A giant arachnid screeched and jumped. The spear caught it mid jump. Skewered.

Luminescent blue blood with a sharp tingling taste to it. Tongue numb, spat out. Allergic or poisonous. Didn't care to find out. 

Had to be water somewhere if this was here.

Barren, dried husks of petrified trees. They cracked and crumbled at one touch.

Urine tinged in blood.

Kidneys ached, head pounded.

Exhaustion.

The rifle echoed. A trail of dead spiders behind. Their blood would do more harm.

The desert was endless.

Sleep.

Half buried in sand.

They found her.


	2. Storm Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9:28 Dragon  
> Western Approach

Sand coated the entire prone form, protecting it from the harsh sun. The only indication there was even a body was the trail of dead arachnids and their abandoned pack. The wind had blown sand across them all, half concealing them, but it wasn’t enough to hide the dead fully. Not with demons resurrecting them.

He made a turning motion with his fingers, holding his linen cloak tighter as the wind whipped around them. The sandstorm approached too fast, but they were on the cusps of its edges. Or so he hoped. If not they would bunker down with the varghests and the tents thrown over them. For now, they wanted to put the potential horror down before it became a problem.

The body was revealed.  Sunken cheeks, white dried spittle, cracked and bleeding lips and nearly sealed with sand eyes. His group’s medic, Aksel, examined the body before exclaiming. Gordon gripped his sword. The rest of his group of recruits readied but the medic shook, fumbling at his belt to loosen the waterskin.

“Report.” He barked, his patience wearing thin. He hated the Approach, but at least he wasn’t travelling as far as the Wastes.

"Poor bastard is barely breathing and severely dehydrated.”

“They’re alive?” Their newest recruit, Eba, gasped.

Gordon waited. The body responded, lips parted to suck up the dribble of water. Their eyes cracked the seal of sand opened long enough to meet his gaze. Through the exhaustion was the hyper sensation of confusion and fear, before they passed out. He let go of the tensions in his shoulders and nodded. “Put them on the varghest and let us push forward before the wind directs the storm at us. Grab their pack too.”

The drive forward across the sandy dunes and ruins was at a harsh speed that left in the most experienced riders of the group with chafed legs.  They came upon the Grey Warden Watchtower. They would camp there for however long the storm would take to pass.

The tower once had several levels up, but with Blights past it crumbled. What remained was what appeared to be a ruin and ruble. Looks were deceiving. The Watchtower served the purpose of being a waypoint between Griffon Wing Keep and Adamant. It also allowed for a quick access into the Deep Roads below. To view several once known pathways the Darkspawn used to reach the surface. Carved into the very stone by dwarves and built upon by humans on the surface, it was a Watchtower above and down below.  

“Quickly!” Gordon barked as the rush of wind threatened them with the sandstorm. The varghests were led inside and they shut the door as the storm reached them with the faint traces of sulfur in it’s gusts of sand.

“Maker’s ass.” Gordon swore and shook out the sand in his beard and hair as Eba found a flint to light the oil torch. “Settle in, we’ll wait out the storm here. There should be a well.  Larder too, put our stocks in there.” He angled his head to the prone form still atop the varghest scratching at the hay covered floor. “Aksel.”

They removed and settled them on one of the wooden tables in a side room one level down. The cool dark room was a welcome relief from the heat of the desert. Another torch was lit and a brazier as well to give them some light as they removed the head scarf and layers their find had encased themselves in.

Aksel slowed however when the swell upon their chest revealed the body was a waiflike figured woman. Gordon halted Aksel from removing any more of her clothing.

“Fetch Eba.” Gordon nodded. It would be indecent for them to undress her further with no woman present.  Gordon stood watch but not for long.

Aksel returned with Eba, a pitcher of fresh well water, and some hardtack. Together they were quick to remove the rest of the garments to find the points of injury on her. Covered burns, a few scrapes, a smattering of bruises, old scars, and tattoos lined her body. Aksel and Eba were quick to clean the fresh wounds.

“Blood is like sludge.” Aksel shook his head.

“Well, at least there was little blood loss.” Eba joked with grin.

A grim outlook but no less true.

“Come on, tilt her head so she can drink some more.” Aksel grumbled.

Eba did as instructed. She was their newest recruit. She hadn’t been through her joining but she was proving useful. Gordon had found her in Val Royeaux’s prison where she’d been charged with theft. The person she’d stolen from, Lady Mantillon’s latest husband.

Though how a giantess Qunari was able to pull that off, he still didn’t know. ‘Trade secret.’ Eba had smiled. He meant to use the Rite, but the prison was happy to be rid of her. Turned out she kept lockpicking her way out and into the guards quarters only to steal their food and return to her cell. It was curious why she didn’t escape. He fully expected her to try something with him, but thus far nothing.

Gordon left them treating her wounds. Javid and Unna were cleaning out the bedrolls to be used on the stone beds.

“I bet it feels nice to be underground again?” Javid asked Unna.

Unna squinted at him in disbelief. “I’m a surfacer. I’ve never even been underground for my recruitment.”

“So there’s not even an ancestral calling for you?” Javid poised as they threw down another bedroom.

“I don’t know. Is there an ancestral calling for you in any sodding forest?” Unna scoffed with a shake of her head.

“Yes.”

“Wait...really?” Unna did a double tak.

“No, you mamón.” Javid laughed. Unna took a swipe at his side with a snarl, but Javid dodged with a bark.

Gordon cleared his throat.

Javid straightened and cooled his expression. Unna did not do such a thing, merely crossed her arms. Yet both responded, “Ser?”

“Thank you for readying the bedrolls. When you’re done, explore the lower levels for any salvageable mushrooms or critters. We may yet be here a while if the storm does not clear in a day.”

“Why do I have to go down there? Is it because I’m a dwarf?” Unna grumbled.

Gordon raised a brow and looked at Javid. “Javid is to accompany you.”

Javid smirked. Unna narrowed her gaze.

“Now.” Gordon spoke sternly and the two grumbled off down the stairs with a glowstone torch. He shook his head. Aksel was his most senior Warden of three years. Javid and Unna took their joining in the same group only this past year. Needless to say, they were still a bit juvenile.

He climbed back to the top floor. The howling of the storm was worse now. He didn’t need to check on it, but he did. Sliding the peephole open he saw the storm raging, painting the world in a orange red like hue. He shut the hole and walked away to return back down. Aksel waited outside the room.

“Anything?”

“Eba is cleaning her other wounds now.” Aksel muttered while whittling. It was almost complete, save for the finer details Aksel was adding now.  “Beside from that, we’ll know more when she awakens.”

“How long until then?”

“Tough to say.” Aksel didn’t look up. “She needs to rest with proper hydration for a few days.”

“Hmm, we may have those few days here.” Gordon admitted.

“The storm will last that long? Even this far south?” Aksel finally eyed him.

“It might last a week.”

Aksel puffed his cheeks with air. “Well...two silvers says Javid attacks Unna first.”

Gordon side-eyed Aksel with a smirk. “My coin’s on Unna.”


End file.
